


1-up girl

by bubbleteabunny



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11959317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleteabunny/pseuds/bubbleteabunny
Summary: He calls you his 1-up girl.





	1-up girl

**Author's Note:**

> been having some difficulties writing lately and idk why. this was just a warm-up to hopefully break me back into the swing of things.

The day Peter finds a fully-functional Nintendo Entertainment System in a dumpster three blocks away from his apartment building, he’s confident he’ll never score anything bigger than this.

When he’s carrying it home under his arm, careful not to tangle the wires, a couple of things cross his mind. The first is: who would throw something like this away? This is a thought he doesn’t linger on for very long. It hardly matters, not when Peter’s ended up with the console completely for free. The second is: he anticipates draining a lot of time playing games on this, if he can get it working.

And it does work, perfectly fine, no reparations needed. At seeing the start-up screen and hearing its iconic chime, Peter’s eyes light up and he laughs to himself a little in disbelief because surely this was too good to be true? The words _“please set disk card”_ blink in silence and he decides that he’ll need to figure out what his first game should be and buy it as soon as he does. If he’s lucky, it’d be here in time for the weekend.

———

There’s a retro game shop on the other side of Queens that he only discovers because he’d been swinging past that area one day. It’s practically hidden, and when he spots it, he lands on the sidewalk in front of it so he can peer into the window. There are some consoles and games set up in the display, and when he looks past his reflection in the glass, of his red and blue suit, he sees you at the counter, sorting through cartridges. As if feeling him staring, you glance up and smile widely at seeing the neighborhood superhero. You hold up a hand to give a wave. Peter smiles because yours is contagious but then he remembers you can’t see it. So he waves back, and then he’s off again, slinging his way between buildings, while he thinks to himself that you’re probably the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 

He goes back again on a different day, but as Peter. The bell atop the door jingles quietly and he doesn’t see anyone behind the counter. His heart sinks slightly as he considers that you might not be working today. He tries to forget about it as he occupies himself with looking at games in the NES section, and he hears footsteps as someone emerges from the backroom.

“If you need any help, just let me know.”

He looks up, eyes wide, to find you behind the counter, hands out to the side and resting against the edge of the glass case. Your smile is friendly and your eyes are soft and he can only nod and mutter what he _thinks_ is a thank you but he’s honestly not too sure because he does have a tendency to trip over his words when he’s nervous and, well, when you’re looking at him like _that_ it’s sort of hard _not_ to be nervous. When he continues perusing the shelves, he feels a million more times self conscious, and he periodically glances up at you, where you’re on the opposite side alphabetizing the SNES cartridges. 

“U-Um…” he begins uneasily, and you turn to him because you’re the only other one here so you’re the only one he could be addressing, “do you have any suggestions? For games?” He scratches the back of his head and smiles but he’s sure it probably looks more like a pained cringe. _Nice one._

Your smile widens and you nod as you cover the short distance across the store. You come to astop next to him, your eyes roving over all the games before the two of you, and Peter can practically see the cogs spinning in your head as you go through the whole selection, trying to decide what the best choice would be. You hum as you think, and finally you bend slightly at the knees so you can pick up a cartridge lower on the shelf. It’s a copy of Super Mario Bros.

“How about this? I mean, if you don’t already have it. It’s a classic, and _really_ addicting.”

Peter smiles, more relaxed now, as he spots the wonder in your eyes. “I’ll take it.”

As you ring him up, he asks you if it’s your favorite game. You enthusiastically tell him yes with a toothy grin and it makes him chuckle. You explain that it’s probably the most replayed game in your collection, and sometimes you dream about it. He tells you he’s excited to play it as soon as he gets home. You tell him you’re excited for him.

———

“You seem happy,” Aunt May comments offhandedly one morning as she sits across from Peter at the dining table.

Peter looks up from his plate of pancakes and swallows before he speaks. “Well, it _is_ Friday.”

“I have a feeling it’s not _that_ that has you positively _glowing_.” 

“ _May,”_ Peter groans, and she laughs.

“Well, c’mon, tell me: who is she?”

Peter sighs and briefly thinks that the whole _I’m Spiderman_ talk might— _might_ —be easier than talking about you. He humors his aunt, telling her about the girl he met at a game shop on the other side of the borough. There’s a smile on her face the whole time she listens, and when he’s finally done, in the silence that follows for a few moments, both of them understand just how taken he is with you. Peter’s cheeks feel warmer than the pancakes he’s having for breakfast. Now that it’s finally out in the open, he seriously doubts that the smile on May’s face will ever leave.

———

He stops ordering games online. They’re traded for visits to the shop you work at, and whenever he walks in, his heart feels warm at seeing the way your eyes light up. He doesn’t always end up leaving with a game, not if his budget doesn’t allow a new one that week. So he just stops by to chat with you, and you’re more than happy to talk to him. He’s usually there on weekdays so the store is quiet, and he has you all to himself. You go to a different school, so this is the only place he really sees you. 

One day he’s helping you go through the cartridges that recently got traded in and you jokingly tell him he should apply. He’d genuinely like to, but he’s already stretched thin with school and being Spiderman. 

“You should come over one of these days.” The statement is out of his mouth before he realizes it.

You look up at Peter, and your lack of immediate response prompts him to panic as he rushes to elaborate.

“I-I mean… if you want to. We can play Super Mario Bros. With how much you play, I bet you’re really good.”

You smile lopsidedly then and gosh, it looks _so cute_ on you. “I’d like that.”

He doesn’t think he heard you correctly the first time, but the following Friday the two of you are at his apartment, NES switched on and Super Mario Bros on the television screen, the iconic Italian plumber making his way through various stages in the Mushroom Kingdom. You’re the one with the controller, and when you mis-jump and a goomba runs into you when you land, killing your already shrunken Mario, you hand off the controller to Peter so he can play the next life.

He’s not playing for long before he dies in basically the same spot you did, and the controller is back in your hands. He mentions that he’s much better than this, he _promises_ , it’s just, he supposes his _nerves_ are getting the best of him. You laugh and ask why he’s nervous, it’s not like this is any sort of competition, and he looks at you then, but you don’t notice, eyes focused on the screen. The smile fades as he really studies the details of your face—the curl of your lashes, the strands of hair which fall from your bun (you tie your hair up in a bun when you play games—a sign you’re ready to really concentrate)—because the answer, is, well, it’s _you_. It’s always been you. 

His heart begins to race when he realizes he still hasn't responded, and he wonders if you’d forget your query if he just doesn’t say anything. Before he can come up with any answer other than the truth, there’s a knock on his bedroom door, and then it’s being pushed open.

You hit pause as both of you turn to look at the newcomer now standing in the doorframe. Aunt May smiles widely and pushes her glasses up slightly. “You must be [Name]!” 

You smile widely and clutch at the controller a little tighter as you shrug, suddenly shy. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Peter’s talked _so much_ about you!”

Said boy’s eyes widen and he tries to be subtle about shaking his head to get her to stop, lest she embarrass him anymore. He’s too petrified to even try to laugh it off, and he can see in his peripherals as you glance at him, grin still on your face.

“Good things I hope.” 

“ _All_ good things.” May chuckles. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

“If that’s okay.”

“Of course it is, dear. I’ll knock again when it’s ready.” She graces you both with another smile before she closes the door, which clicks back into place quietly.

Peter thought his heart was beating fast _before,_ but _now?_ Luckily you don’t say anything about May’s earlier comments, and he grows more relaxed as the two of you continue to play, getting all the way to the start of world three before dinner, which goes smoothly. May doesn’t embarrass him anymore thankfully, but that knowing smile of hers is ever-present the whole way through. 

———

“I never forgot about that question, by the way.”

“What?”

“When I asked why you were nervous that one day, you didn’t give me an answer.”

Peter looks up at you, where you sit across the table which is covered in a vinyl red and white checkered cloth. You bring your slice of pizza up to your mouth to take a bite as you wait for him to say something, because you know he didn’t forget the question either. 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to figure out what to say, and you’d laugh if you weren’t currently chewing, so the best you can muster is an amused smile. His cheeks are reddening by the second. There’s not really a _perfect_ way for him to answer. It’s straightforward. So he forces himself to say it because this time you’re not going to let it go. “I was nervous because… well, _you_ make me nervous…” he trails off, eyes going down to his own pizza slice because he’s too embarrassed to look at you. He knew that one of these days he’d admit his feelings to you, but he certainly didn’t imagine it would happen like _this_ , in a pizza parlor where you’ve basically put him on the spot. 

“Why?” You tilt your head.

His eyes settle on an empty table on the other side of the establishment because he thinks that if he looks at you now, he won’t be able to get the words out of his mouth. “I… I really like you, [Name].” It almost doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it, but then he finally dares to glance back at you, and you smile, and he notices it’s shyer. 

It takes you a few seconds to reply, but when you do, when you tell him you like him too, he feels like he could fly to the moon right this instant if you’d asked him to. 

———

Tonight the two of you are at your house, playing your copy of Super Mario Bros. You’re sitting on the floor next to each other, leaning back against your bed. Quiet dings emit from the television as you direct Mario farther along the stage, collecting coins and jumping on koopas. Peter sports a black eye which he brushes off as something he’d gotten in a fight at school—since you don’t go to Midtown, you can’t catch him in a lie.

Every time you glance at him, concern is etched on your face, and he feels bad about lying, he _does_ , but he doesn’t want to say anything. And it’s not because he’s worried you’d leave him if you knew the truth. You’re not like that. He’s worried because of the risk it would put on you and he doesn’t want that for you. The less you know, the better. Tony doesn’t even know about you, and Peter’s sure that if he did, the first thing out of his mouth would be _“Don’t tell her anything”_ to which Peter would reply _“Yes, I know”_ and that would be the end of the conversation because they’re both superheroes and if there’s anything superheroes know, it’s that anyone close to them is a weakness, _especially_ if those people know their identities.

He still can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever tell you his secret. Because whenever he kisses you and he looks into your hazy eyes and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip, he realizes he loves you. And maybe he’s too young to be saying that, but when he’s Spiderman and he’s putting his life on the line for people he’ll never meet and all that he’s thinking about is surviving _this_ so he can get back to _you_ , he’s sure the way he feels about you is more than just passing infatuation. And his heart tightens as he keeps down the things he can’t say.

But he tries to forget about all that for the rest of the evening. He focuses on the present—the game which is only getting more difficult; on the pizza which smells amazing and is quickly devoured; on the sound of your laughter when the two of you keep dying in the same spot despite the fact that when you both play alone, you can get through this stage just fine. He tells himself that _this_ is all that matters right now. 

———

Your smile lifts him above the clouds and he asks himself if you’re even real because for as lucky as he was when finding that NES in the dumpster, it could never compare to seeing you in the game shop he’d practically happened across by chance. You’ve since found a spot in a corner of his heart and settled down in it as though it were home, and he calls you his 1-up girl because if something goes wrong, he knows you’ll always be right there. 


End file.
